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Meantime Mabel, who knew nothing of her loss, conceived the generous idea of willing all her possessions to her recreant husband. "Perhaps he'll think more kindly of me," said she to his father, to whom she first communicated her plan, and Mr. Livingstone felt that he could not undeceive her.
"Christ is born," said the child. "You heard the bells?" "Yes," said Livingstone humbly. "It's all done," she said; "and I prayed so hard that not one of them stirred, and now when they wake they'll think it was real Santa Claus. They say he always comes at twelve and I counted the clocks. I wonder if he went home?" She was speaking now to herself; but Livingstone answered.
Do you happen to remember any of the things that were said about her, and who said them?" Livingstone spoke with extreme courtesy; but there was something in his tone that caused Mr. Port suddenly to think of the tip of Prince Sporetti's left ear, and that led him to reply hurriedly, and by no means lucidly: "Certainly no yes that is to say, I can't exactly remember anything in particular.
The world needs Africa; and teachers, merchants, railroads, and every influence of civilization will be spread through this continent to fit it for the place in human interests that belongs to it. I thought then that Livingstone was an enthusiast and a visionary; but long ago I learned to believe that every word he said was true."
He reflected, not exactly in those terms, that life, any man's life, was only one thread in a pattern woven of an infinite number of threads, and that to tangle the one thread was to interfere with all the others. David Livingstone, the girl in the blue dress, the man twitching uneasily on the bed, Wilkins the sheriff, himself, who could tell how many others, all threads. He swore in a whisper.
At one end of this was an open gate, through which the whole field passed. The hounds were just settling to the scent, when I happened to turn my head, and saw Livingstone coming down at the rails. He had got a bad start, and saw that, by taking them straight in his line, he would gain greatly on the pack, which was turning toward him.
Hutchinson Port." Livingstone took the proffered hand with even more cordiality than it was given, and then extended his own to Mr. Port who seemed much less inclined to shake it than to bite it. "I think that we are justified in regarding ourselves as relations now, Miss Lee, since our cousins have married each other, you know. Quite a romance, wasn't it?
Clark when he, yet a young man, first knew him, and partly a recognition of Clark's position as a man of good birth who had been unfortunate, and had a large family to support. "Oh! that's all right, Mr. Livingstone," said the clerk, pleasantly. He gathered up the letters on the desk and was unconsciously pressing them into exact order. "Shall I have these mailed or sent by a messenger?"
This was but the beginning of greater enterprises, for, catching the noble enthusiasm which characterised Livingstone, Stanley afterwards crossed the Dark Continent, and revealed the head-waters of the Congo. Again he plunged into Africa and succoured Emin Pasha, whose death was announced in the autumn of 1893.
It was not unkindly meant, perhaps, but the old man shrunk away from the large fat hand as if it hurt him, and turned toward us a look piteously appealing, which was not lost on myself or Livingstone. Count Massa did, for he smiled intensely, as only an Italian can smile when amply revenged. One instance more to close a long digression.
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